Brett Cottrell's Blog

Tico's Week 6 Picks Steelers Offense
Steelers at Chiefs: MISSING but PRESUMED DANGEROUS – the Steelers offense. Last seen on January 8, 2017. Chiefs by 5.
Lions at Saints: “I did not have sex with…wait, that Stafford lady? A son, you say?”  Coincidence?









Bears at Ravens: The world needs people like Bears’ coach John Fox because he gives hope to the mediocre. Ravens by 20.

Browns at Texans: Insanity – doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. See also, Cleveland Browns. Texans by 10.
 Packers at Vikings: Packers by 14. 










Dolphins at Falcons: Falcons in last year’s Super Bowl…
Patriots at Jets: The Jets, padding the Patriots’ record for 40 years. Patriots by 10.
Buccaneers at Cardinals: Off-season Cardinals photo. See the problem? Bucs by 10. Arizona Team PhotoRams at Jaguars: What’s the difference between a sewage treatment plant and the city of Jacksonville? One smells like crap stew, the other is a sewage plant. Really. Jacksonville smells. Rams by 5.
Chargers at Raiders: Los Angeles has a professional football team. It’s not the Chargers. Raiders by 4.
Giants at Broncos: Can you name a Giants starting receiver this week? Neither can Eli Manning. Broncos by 20.
Colts at Titans: If you care about this game, you probably think asphalt is a bum disease. Titans by 5.
San Francisco at Washington: The Potomac Drainage Basin Indigenous People’s Team should change their name to the DC Armed Forces. There, I said it. Washington by 8.

Get my new novel, The End of the World Is Rye, at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, IndieBound, your favorite bookstore or check it out at your local library! Look for it on Goodreads and Facebook.

Cincinnati Bengals at Pittsburgh Steelers: People have nightmares. Nightmares have James Harrison. Steelers by 10.
San Francisco 49ers at Carolina Panthers: The 49ers looked great last week, but this week they have to play an actual NFL team. Panthers by 25.
New Orleans Saints at NY Giants: This game has something for everyone. Except defense. NY Giants 55 to Saints 54.
Miami Dolphins at New England Patriots: What’s the difference between a patriot and a crushed rebellion? One week. Dolphins by 7.
Kansas City Chiefs at Houston Texans: JJ Watt took Chuck Norris’s lunch money. Twice. Texans by 10.
Tennessee Titans at Detroit Lions: Tennessee, a dentist’s paradise. Lions by 14.
Baltimore Ravens at Cleveland Browns: “Seldom in history have so many done so little for so few, as the  Cleveland Browns” – Winston Churchill. Ravens by 20.
Seattle Seahawks at LA Rams: The Rams weren’t bad last week. They were worse than bad – Scott Baio as King Lear bad. Seahawks by 30.
Tampa Bay Buccaneers at Arizona Cardinals: Tampa Bay + Phoenix = 180 mile strip mall. Cardinals by 14.
Jacksonville Jaguars at San Diego Chargers: I’m not saying these teams are losers, but if you double their Super Bowl victories and multiply that number by 146, I still have as many. Jags by 4.
Atlanta Falcons at Las Vegas Raiders: I don’t know why some people hate Matt Ryan. After all, he’s a terrific mediocre NFL quarterback. Raiders by 10.
Indianapolis Colts at Denver Broncos: Some people are born with neckbeards. Some people have neckbeards thrust upon them. Only Andrew Luck grows one on purpose. Broncos by 15.
Green Bay Packers at Minnesota Vikings: Cheeseheads v. Nordic water terrorists. Have to go with the water terrorists. Vikings by 7.
Philadelphia Eagles at Chicago Bears: Jake Cutler should quit his sham NFL career and be the Baldwin impersonator God intended him to be. Bears by 1.
Dallas Cowboys at Washington: The Cowboys taught me the biggest word I know: schadenfreude – happiness at the misfortune of others. DC by 14.

NY Jets at Buffalo Bills: Matt Forte will score three touchdowns, and Ryan Fitzpatrick will throw for 350 yards. Jets by 6.

Get Brett Cottrell's new novel, The End of the World Is Rye, at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, IndieBound, your favorite bookstore or check it out at your local library! Look for it on Goodreads and Facebook.

Tico's Back!Pittsburgh Steelers at Washington: There's a new biography about James Harrison called Stranger Things. He's the Strange Thing. Steelers by 14.

Chicago Bears at Houston Texans: JJ Watt brushes his teeth with meat. Texans by 20.
Green Bay Packers at Jacksonville Jaguars: Has anybody been to Jacksonville? On purpose? I thought not. Packers by 4.
Buffalo Bills at Baltimore Ravens: Joe Flacco has half the charisma of a baked potato and only slightly better powers of speech. He can throw, though. Ravens by 20.
Cleveland Browns at Philadelphia Eagles: Dumpster fire + tire fire = this game.
Tampa Bay Buccaneers at Atlanta Falcons: Matt Ryan looks like the dad in the minivan next to you at the stoplight picking his nose. Falcons by 3.
Minnesota Vikings at Tennessee Titans: I went to Tennessee once. Peed on Graceland. Good times. Titans by 12.

Cincinnati Bengals at New York Jets: Ryan Fitzpatrick either has Brett Keisel envy or he's a hipster Viking. Jets by 18.

Oakland Raiders at New Orleans Saints: What’s the difference between the Saints defense and the French military? One’s a collapsing worldwide embarrassment. The other is the French military.
San Diego Chargers at Kansas City Chiefs: The Missouri river in Kansas City is too thick to drink and too runny to plow. Likewise, the Chiefs are too bad to win and too good to lose. Tie.
Miami Dolphins at Seattle Seahawks: In another life, Pete Carroll was the hip substitute on Saved By The Bell. Seahawks by 14.
Detroit Lions at Indianapolis Colts: The Neckbeard Strikes Back! Luck’s got a few wins stashed in that sad excuse for a Wookie on his neck. Colts by 7.

New York Giants at Dallas Cowboys: Jason “Frankie Four Fingers” Pierre-Paul will body slam Jerry Jones, and the world will thank him for it. Giants by 20.
New England Patriots at Arizona Cardinals: Gronkowski is so dumb, he thinks asphalt is a butt disease. Cardinals by 25.
Los Angeles Rams at San Francisco 49ers: One day, LA will get a pro football team. Until then, they’ve got the Rams. 49ers by 5.



Carolina Panthers at Denver Broncos: No cat has ever won a Super Bowl. Think about that. Broncos by 10.
Thanks to Uncle Gus (Ryan Cottrell) for help with this week's picks!
 Get Brett Cottrell's new novel, The End of the World Is Rye, at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, IndieBound, your favorite bookstore or check it out at your local library! Look for it on Goodreads and Facebook.

Trump recently said that all of his policy positions are all merely suggestions. Starting points in the deal making process. In other words, he’s lying. So, what might he really do?
Suggestion – “Build a wall.”Final Deal  – Build a Wal-Mart. The Hispanics, who love me by the way, love Wal-Mart.
Suggestion – “Total and complete shutdown on Muslims entering the country.”Final Deal  – Total and complete shutdown on Michael J. Fox entering the country. He’s pathetic and weak, like that disgraceful New York Times reporter.


Suggestion – “Higher taxes for the rich.”Final Deal  – Higher taxes for Richmond. Political correctness is sad, folks. Richmond was a great confederate capital. Total disaster now.
Suggestion – “Put American workers first.”Final Deal  – Put American workers first in line behind Chinese workers making my products.
Suggestion – “McCain’s not a war hero. I like people that weren’t captured.”Final Deal  – I like people that weren’t capt…ain and Tennille. Love will tear us apart, believe me. Suggestion – “No guns in the classroom.”Final Deal  – No guns for Dick Cheney. I said I could shoot a person and still win, but Cheney already did that. Shot him right in the face, people.
Suggestion – “Women having abortions should receive some sort of punishment.”Final Deal  – Women having abortions should receive some sort of Punky Brewster t-shirt. My daughters, who I totally want to date, by the way, loved that show.
Suggestion – “Nabisco will make Oreos in the United States.”Final Deal  – Nabisco will make Oreos for Chris Christie.
Suggestion – “Deport all illegal immigrants.”Final Deal  – Deport all illegal immigrants’ taco bowls. Some of them, I assume, bring decent taco bowls, but most are full of drugs. Trump Tower makes the best. Believe me.
Suggestion – “I’m using my own money to run for president.”Final Deal  – I used Sheldon Adelson’s money to run for president. He’s rich, okay? Maybe the only person richer than me stupid enough to finance me.

 Get my new novel, The End of the World Is Rye, at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, IndieBound, your favorite bookstore or check it out at your local library! Look for it on Goodreads and Facebook.

Taking the Bentley to the Bus StationWhen somebody offers to let you stay in their penthouse at the St. Regis in New York City, say yes. Don’t worry about work or transportation. Quit if you have to and walk if you must, but by all means, say yes. And when the bellhop rolls up in a $400,000 Bentley to take you to the bus station? Say yes again.
Here’s how it happened. I was living in Washington, DC, a few years ago, and my aunt and uncle invited my mother and me to spend a few days with them at the St. Regis in New York. My mother flew up from her home in Phoenix, and I took the bus up from DC.
Some people say that staying the St. Regis is like staying at a palace. This is not true and those people are stupid. It’s much nicer than a palace. To be fair, it’s like a palace in two ways: 1) the butlers, and 2) Elton John routinely stays there. I didn’t see him, but you bet I looked.
As nice as the hotel was, what I remember most about staying there was spending time with my family. While running to catch a Broadway play, we almost ran over George R.R. Martin, the author of Game of Thrones. He was coming out of a pizza shop, carrying a few boxes of slices, and we practically stumbled over him. That wasn’t even the strange part - he walked right into the street and miraculously between the screeching cars. There’s a fine line between genius and insanity, and sometimes I guess the only way to walk it is to walk among the traffic.
I took my mom to see Wicked. If you haven’t seen it, you should. If you don’t know what it is, you probably think the St. Regis is a palace. We had great seats, close enough that we could see the actors’ facial expressions and intricate costume details. Of course, this means sometimes you also get to see their spittle flying toward you, but on the whole, it’s worth it. You’ve never really experienced Broadway until you’ve dodged the Wicked Witch’s spit.
We had dinner at one of Oprah’s favorite restaurants. I’m a big fan of Oprah, so I told the waiter, “I’ll have what Oprah has,” which resulted in a blank stare. He either didn’t think it was funny or simply didn’t know what Oprah usually has. Poor guy.
Eventually we had to leave. My mom and I were taking the bus back to DC. The buses are clean, efficient, make no stops, cost $35 round trip, and drop you off just a few blocks from my house. They’re a steal! But still, they are buses, and you have to go to the bus station, which lacks both the panache of taking the train into Grand Central Station or a red-eye into JFK. But in this case, we weren’t even going to the actual bus terminal building in New York, just a parking space on the side of a road.
As we left the hotel, a cab pulled up to the St. Regis taxi stand and asked us where we were headed. “The bus stop,” we said. “Nope,” he replied, and drove away. My mom and I laughed, but the bellhop was really pretty upset, and told us to wait a minute and he’d have their car take us.
Two minutes later, a world-class, one-of-a-kind, specially-made Bentley pulled up, and the driver put our bags in the trunk, opened the doors for us and got in. “Where to,” he asked. “The bus station,” I said proudly with a grin. He looked at me through the rear-view mirror to see if I was serious. “I bet you’ve never, ever taken this car to the bus station, have you?” I asked. We all started laughing, “Nope, he said. Never. Helicopter pads. Private airports, yachts, but never the bus station!”
The bus station was only about eight blocks away, and as luck would have it, traffic was backed up and we spent about half an hour in that wheeled money-box. It was opulent, extravagant and fantastic, with detailed inlaid woodwork and hand-stitched leather upholstery. It rode on silk rails and somehow blocked out all the noise of the busy New York Streets – every angry honk and siren. The driver said it cost more than $400,000. My mom and I took it to the bus station. 

 Get my new novel, The End of the World Is Rye, at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, IndieBound, your favorite bookstore or check it out at your local library! Look for it on Goodreads and Facebook.

I was born in Las Vegas, and despite the dead bodies, mafia encounters, and dangerous lizards, I remember my childhood as remarkably ordinary, almost boring.I was raised in Henderson, just south of Las Vegas, and although the two cities are now indistinguishable, this was not always the case. When I was young, Vegas was the Rat Pack, mafia, and neon glitz. Henderson was a blue-collar, gritty, working-class town populated largely by Mormons who worked at the petrochemical plants in the desert between the two cities. Las Vegas celebrated The Strip with gambling and showgirls. Henderson celebrated Industrial Days — an actual holiday — with a carnival and parade. The industrial complex is hidden now, the old desert buffer filled with miles of identical houses. You’d have to know the factories were there to see them. People still work there, but the cities try to hide the blue collars. Henderson no longer celebrates Industrial Days; it celebrates Heritage Days.I grew up in a small house on the outskirts of town and shared a bedroom with my two brothers. It was probably crowded with three boys in one small room, but I don’t remember it that way. We had bunk beds, a couple of dressers, and a well-used toy box. Despite the tight space, there always seemed room enough to build baseball-card houses and Lego cities. The walls were papered in red, white and blue stripes, and the carpet was a Cookie-Monster blue. I’m sure it was horrendous, but I remember it fondly. It was a kids’ room. It made no pretense of adulthood.My older sister had her own room. It was green. Not just any green, but a make-the-wizard-of-Oz-green-with-envy green. It had fantastic green furniture that my parents bought from a Hilton Hotel fire sale. It was from an actual fire — the furniture was slightly smoke damaged. Every year my parents tried to grow grass in our front and back yards, and every year they failed. In the battles between lawns and the Mojave, the Mojave usually wins. We had two large trees in the front and two in the back. At least they seemed large. I was small then, and the trees have long since been removed, so nobody can disprove me. My brothers and I spent so much time in those trees that our neighbors might have thought we were monkeys. There was one difference, though — monkeys don’t fall out of trees, and we frequently did.My best friends lived behind me, in houses separated by an obstacle called a fence. Luckily, my friends and I climbed fences better than I climbed trees, and we spent countless hours building forts in our yards and throwing pomegranates at each other that we picked from a large bush. If you’ve never been hit in the head with a pomegranate, I don’t suggest you try it. We rode our bikes to school and to scout meetings and into the desert to find and capture lizards. Some of the lizards, like Gila monsters and chuckwallas, were poisonous or had nasty bites. Naturally we wanted these the most. If you had a chuckwalla, you were the coolest kid on the block. We were better at capturing them than keeping them, though. We’d bring them home and put them in a glass aquarium on the back patio, and somehow they’d always escape. Years later, my mom told me that she paid an older neighbor boy to take the lizards back to the desert during the night. I guess she didn’t care about our status. Once, while looking for lizards, the desert provided an unexpected surprise. My friend and I had ridden our bikes a mile or two into the desert on an old dirt road and were looking for ringtail lizards in a pile of concrete slabs that seemingly existed for no other reason than to house lizards. We saw a ringtail dart under a large slab and figured if we tossed the slab to the side the lizard would come out and we’d catch it. We’d done this many times. What could go wrong? With my friend hefting one side of the heavy slab and me on the other, we tossed it aside. There wasn’t a lizard. There was a dead body in a tuxedo. It wasn’t bloated or decomposing. It was fresh. I don’t think I slept for a week.  There’s a Vegas lesson: sometimes life is like a pile of concrete slabs — you never know what you’re going to get. A few years later my mother turned over her own dead bodies when a drunken man came into our family restaurant and explained to her, in great detail, how he’d spent his life killing for the mafia. He gave her an odd, small golden mouse figurine and said he’d return for it at the same time in one week. My mom immediately called a Mormon friend in the FBI and an Italian friend in a connected “family,” who both said they’d be there when the hit man returned. I begged my mom to let me go. I was sure it was going to be just like The Godfather. She said no, which was just as well because only a few disappointed FBI agents showed up. Later, my mom asked her “connected” friend if the hit man had been telling the truth, and if she should worry for her safety. He smiled and said, “It’s taken care of. Nobody will come after you.”What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, but I get to keep the memories.
 Get my new novel, The End of the World Is Rye, at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, IndieBound, your favorite bookstore or check it out at your local library! Look for it on Goodreads and Facebook.

Jesus said the meek will inherit the earth.Trump callsthis a redistributive death tax.
Jesus says you can’t serve God and money.Huckabee thinks this is a challenge.
Jesus says don’t judge.Jeb says shame the sluts.
Jesus says pray privately and be rewarded openly.Huckabee sayspray openly and be rewarded with book sales.
Jesus says when the poor hunger and thirst, give them food and drink.Scott Walker saysbuild rich people NBA stadiums, instead.
Jesus said do unto others as you would have them do unto you.Scott Walker likesmandatory ultrasounds.
Jesus tells us to love our neighbors.Ted Cruz saysnot if they’re gay.
Jesus healed the lame.Rick Perry…shota coyote?
Jesus fed the hungry and tended to the poor.Rand Paul thinks Jesus only did this because Jesus hadn’t read Ayn Rand.
Jesus says “blessed are the peacemakers.”Marco Rubio sayspeacemakers don’t win primaries.
The Bible says that the Lord gives wisdom.Rick Perry can’t spell wisdom.

Get my new novel, The End of the World Is Rye, at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, IndieBound, your favorite bookstore or check it out at your local library! Look for it on Goodreads and Facebook.

Signing books and meeting readers at Barnes & Noble in Richmond, Virginia. Reading at the book launch at Fantom Comics in Washington, DC. The Fantom Comics manager put together a great launch.
Get The End of the World Is Rye on Amazon, Indie Bound or at your favorite book store, and don't forget to check it out on Facebook and Goodreads.

It's finally here! Get your copy at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, IndieBound, your favorite bookstore or check it out at your local library! Don't forget to mark it on Goodreads and like it on Facebook.

What would you do for the perfect sandwich? Kill? Die? Well, if you were a rogue angel, you might cause the Apocalypse. And it looks like that's just what this darkly funny fantasy's rogue angel is about to do when he lands in a polygamist cult in Utah. Now it's up to the rest of God's divine posse, including Jesus and Lucifer, to save all of existence from certain destruction. In his debut novel, Brett Cottrell takes you on a provocative, celestial roller coaster ride that will have you laughing on the edge of your seat all the way to the gates of Hell.

Senator Steve Vick and the Idaho LegislatureYou probably don't need to be a bigot to represent Northern Idaho, but it helps.

When state Senator Steve Vick refused to attend a Hindu legislative invocation because Hindus "worship cows" and lack a Judeo-Christian work ethic, he insulted one billion people and accused them of worshipping his dinner,

Lost in the rightful clamor about Vick's ignorance is his hypocrisy - Idaho legislators are the ones who have the hots for cows. They can't get enough of them. It's a four billion dollar industry, and that doesn't include the ancillary economic output. Idaho has more cows than people (1.36 cows per person), lets them trample private property, is 3rd in the nation in milk and cheese production, and sells nearly two billion dollars of cattle annually.

Which is worse: revering an animal as a symbol of life or worshipping its death as a symbol of profit? Most Idaho legislators condemned Vick's nonsense, but they're lucky Moses isn't around to see them bow to their golden calf.


See also:
Idaho Wants Your Vote To Strip You Of It

The End of the World is Rye. By Brett Cottrell. Available June 2015. Pre-order it now!
What would you do for the perfect sandwich? Kill? Die? Well, if you were a rogue angel, you might cause the Apocalypse. And it looks like that's just what this darkly funny fantasy's rogue angel is about to do when he lands in a polygamist cult in Utah. Now it's up to the rest of God's divine posse, including Jesus and Lucifer, to save all of existence from certain destruction. In his debut novel, Brett Cottrell takes you on a provocative, celestial roller coaster ride that will have you laughing on the edge of your seat all the way to the gates of Hell.